Grey Mist
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: When truth and lies are clouded beyond distinction, one finds the border between what is acceptable and not blurred beyond comprehension. A new stepfather seemed to be having that effect.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes

You know, I wrote a nice long authors note for this and then deleted it and decided I'm only going to say one thing. I don't feel one way or another about step-parents; truthfully, I've seen from a distance both and close up neither. My writing doesn't necessarily reflect my opinions, more often it reflects the fruits of my imagination and my thirst for information and application.

Enjoy, and tell me what you think.

* * *

><p><span>Grey Mist<span>

When truth and lies are clouded beyond distinction, one finds the border between what is acceptable and not blurred beyond comprehension. A new stepfather seemed to be having that effect.

Kouichi K & Tomoko K

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 1<span>

He wasn't quite sure how he felt about the idea of his mother getting remarried when she first dropped the bombshell. Personally, he attempted to avoid his mother's scattered dates, never sure of _anyone's_ intentions, including his own, but there were times, such as arriving back at their apartment after school or a pair appearing after curfew, which couldn't really be avoided. His mother avoided those situations too; she wasn't the sort of woman who took casual dates to home life, so as a consequence it wasn't very often that Kouichi met a potential bachelor trying to win over his mother's heart.

He _had_ met a few, including a rather embarrassed doctor who had feverishly argued against the notion that had been suggested. Tomoko had agreed and that had been that, but it had seemed a tad more sparks had flown for a while in between. Izumi had thought so in any case, though neither she nor the elder twin who would otherwise have been in a better situation to judge, had any experience in the dating field…unless one decided to count her pledged during the final fight with Cherubimon, the fulfilment of which had entailed the two boys simply paying for her ticket and snack, much to the amusement of the three not so directly involved and to Junpei's particular relief.

But when he first met the man that was going to be his stepfather, there were no suspected sparks or loose teasing gossip resulting in an awkward blushing couple. Truthfully, the situation didn't allow for that for several reasons. They weren't enjoying a nice cup of coffee in the hospital cafeteria on their own to the delight of watching co-workers thinking the roses of love were in full bloom. Or chatting in some café or spread where he had coincidently run into the pair (that had happened only once) or even in their apartment when he'd either been home and introduced for the sake of politeness or arrived home and introduced for the same reasons. What had happened was that he had been working on a large A3 spread covered in both rough and detailed sketches as the sun went down past the kitchen window when his mother emerged from her bedroom, fixing her hair into a rather elegant bun as opposed to her usual ponytail.

She opened her mouth to say something to him, clip in one hand and hair held in position with the other, but the doorbell rang before the thoughts formulated into words. Kouichi barely caught the look as the black locks unravelled and fell over her shoulders and the features shifted slightly, and then she set her clip down and answered the door, inviting the person who had called at the odd hour.

Curious, he hadn't immediately shifted his gaze back to his drawing. It was an odd time for a visitor, especially as it had looked like his mother was preparing to leave somewhere; she didn't normally adorn a dress and certainly not for something in their small two-person apartment. What was odder was that his mother's face had changed to an expression of expectancy, or in other words, she was not only unsurprised at a visitor calling at an odd hour, but she had been waiting or else suspecting it. What was odder still was that she had let her hair fall loose, rather than redoing it into its knot and clipping it back. She normally did not leave her hair loose outside the family.

The exchange of words was too quiet for him to make out naturally; he supposed if he strained his ears, or worse slipped off his chair and adapted a more strategic position to eavesdrop (which he was not currently doing), he might have made something out. He wondered still who had been at the door; his initial guess was that he had forgotten the weekend and it was Kouji's turn to visit, but the truth wasn't too far from the forefront of his mind.

Tomoko came back in, twisting her length of hair again, and a slightly taller black-haired man followed her. Because Kouichi had turned his head back down, he missed the other's first reaction to him, but once the footsteps registered and he looked up again, he realised the man did look somewhat familiar. He had probably caught fleeting glimpses and his brain hadn't attempted to register them to save him the effort of actually _thinking_ about the complex paradigm that was his familial situation. He had even once considered that his relationship with Kouji's dog was probably the most straightforward…before he remembered that the said German Sheppard had failed to warn his master of his "follower" (some would be inclined to use the word "stalker" but that would be technically incorrect) while dogs in general were supposed to be profound in both their sense of loyalty and smell.

By the time he did look up, the other had turned from his mother and was smiling politely at him.

'I don't believe we've been properly introduced,' he said, in a matter that might suggest he was simply another one of his mother's acquaintances. In fact, he would have suspected that, if the subtleties of the situation weren't pestering him. And that probably wouldn't have pestered him if Tomoko hadn't asked his opinion on the canvas blue drop-dress she was currently wearing. She had looked a little mysterious when he had asked the occasion in return, saying only that it had been a gift.

He had a feeling he was going to find out when he caught a brief moment of his mother's sapphire eyes (which he felt his brother had managed to duplicate better than himself) met the other's grey.

'I don't believe so,' Kouichi replied, setting his pencil down and standing so he could bow, as was customary. 'Kimura Kouichi. Hajimamashite.'

The man returned the bow. 'Ishikawa Akita. Likewise'

'We're going out for dinner today,' Tomoko said at that point, fitting the clip in. 'Go put on something nice honey.'

Kouichi accidently knocked his pencil over, having already begun to nod at the first statement. 'I-I'm coming with you?' he asked, caught entirely off guard.

'I didn't tell you before?'

Mute, he shook his head.

'Oh, well…' She looked like she was resisting the urge to scratch her head; she would have to fix up her hair _again_. 'Go get dressed, and tidy up your things. We might be late coming back.'

He ducked under the table to withdraw the lead instrument before rolling up the paper spread and the other scraps he had underneath them and carrying them off to his room. He heard the other man strike up a conversation with his mother again, but he had to close the door to be able to reach the box kept solely for art indulged simply for enjoyment and cherishment: words and lines, threading together to create poems, stories, illustrations…even charcoal images, but the most important item was not in that box for inconvenience's sake, but rather under his pillow, where it was both easy to reach, private and close.

The lid came down on the box and he put it away with his other things. His school uniform hung behind the door: navy blue school pants, a white shirt and a blazer, again navy blue. His school books were piled neatly on the desk, along with his writing utensils, to which he added the lead pencil. Some novels were on the attached bookshelf; his own, the library ones were on his desk with his school things to make sure he didn't mix them up and thus incur a fine. Next to his books were some photographs, all framed, and on the other side, well away from any furniture, including the in-built closet and stack of drawers beside the desk, was his futon, neatly rolled, and above that was a single frame hanging, and towards the head, a window that rose to the ceiling. And across from his pillow was a stand that reached up to his waist if he stood to his full height, decorated with an odd assortment of things which most wouldn't understand.

Kouichi didn't spare them much glance however, shoving the box under the desk and sliding open the closet door and considering his assortment of clothes. His summer uniform was the first thing he noticed; the lighter shirt and slacks, and his sport uniforms, both versions, hung merrily beside them. He ignored those but debated slightly on the rest; his mother was dressed rather fancily for a dinner, and the man who he accurately suspected as being a love interest (a serious one seeing as he had passed the preliminary steps to arrive on their doorstep) had adapted a beige suit. Several shades off the colour of his walls actually; they were cream.

He was reluctant to pick his only suit, as it had been the one he had worn to his grandmother's funeral, but nothing else seemed formal enough save a kimono and it would look rather out of place, especially seeing as his mother had chosen a more western style attire herself. So in the end he did go with the suit, which had only gone a few months since its last use and luckily hadn't gotten to the stage where it needed an iron to caress out the creases. It didn't take him long to slip into the outfit and a minute or so longer to comb his hair so it fell neatly about his head.

His mother emerged barely a minute after himself, and it was slightly amusing to note that the sapphire hairpin above her bun was the only new addition to her attire. The hairpin if he remembered correctly had been a wedding present from a friend of hers, and quite an interesting story had gone with it too. The amusement came from the fact that it had taken the same amount of time for her to pin it to her hair as it had for him to completely change his own attire.

And their visitor had simply waited patiently on the couch.

'Shall we go?' he asked, smiling at each of them in turn but reserving an extra-special one for his date. As normal as that should be, it passed almost without notice except for the brief pause in transition.

Tomoko smiled and picked up her purse, slipping something into it and withdrawing her keys with a single, fluid motions. 'Lets,' she agreed, beckoning to her son.

The ride was relatively low-key; the brunette Akita began on the tangent on building plans over an old garden tucked in a corner of an industrial district and the conversation followed through for their short journey. Kouichi had only spoken once, when his mother had turned from the front seat and asked his opinion, but otherwise he listened to the words exchanged before him, watched the scenery moving by, and contemplated on his own swirl of thoughts.

It certainly felt odd, though his mother sounded both happy and at ease. Not the happiness that had shown on her face for the first second she had stared into Kouji's face, but a normal-place happiness. The sort that belonged in a common household, like when he brought home a certificate with a golden star as a small child. So it wasn't exactly an apprehensive sort of awkwardness as he trailed behind the two adults.

How he could not have seen it coming, he had no idea.

The restaurant was…rather fancy. Celebratory. A young woman dressed in a black dress uniform led them to a vacant table, handed the menus, then left them.

Tomoko sighed, leaning back on her chair. 'I've never come here before,' she admitted. 'But it is beautiful. Special even.'

'A special place for a special occasion,' Akita turned and smiled at her.

Tomoko returned it, before monopolising it into a more apologetic one as she turned to her son. 'We thought we'd leave it as a bit of a surprise. Akita…' she took a deep breath, before continuing. 'He proposed to me, and I've decided to accept.'

For a moment, there was utter silence. Coincidently, even the soft melody that had been playing ceased as the tracks changed.

His mouth flexed, opened, and shut again. _Why_ he hadn't expected that, he didn't have much of a notion. No reasonable one anyway. Part of him felt his mother really should have told him sooner, but the rest of him reasonably pointed out that it was her life, and her decision.

'Kouichi?'

'Ah…' His throat felt a little dry and he quickly swallowed. 'Congratulations.'

Her smile widened, and she turned to her…fiancé. 'Will you excuse us for a minute?'

'No problem,' he smiled, pushing his chair aside. 'I'll go get some champagne.'

Tomoko watched his retreating back, before her smiled dimmed. 'You know,' she commented lightly. 'Your brother would be shooting questions at me as soon as I announced that, then bury me in my grave for keeping it a surprise.'

'Kouji wouldn't do that 'kaa-san,' Kouichi replied.

'No,' she admitted. 'He wouldn't. But-' She seemed a little hesitant. 'Well, I honestly wasn't sure how you would react, and I didn't want…well, I didn't want you to be mad.'

'I'm not mad 'kaa-san,' the other replied, leaning forward. 'Really I'm not.'

She wanted to ask how he felt, honestly, but she got the feeling, perhaps mother's intuition, that he really wasn't sure himself. He probably was shocked, and understandably though.

'Well, I certainly am not looking forward to telling Kouji,' she sighed looking into her lap, before she raised her gaze and looked her son in the eye. 'Things are going to change,' she explained quietly. 'I know it's going to be hard, and I know the two of you don't know each other, but there's plenty of time for all that. This wasn't a decision I didn't think thoroughly about; the contrary in fact. But if something's not working, or wrong, you tell me. Okay?'

Kouichi looked at his mother's sapphire eyes. There was something sparkling in there, something he'd never seen. She was still smiling, looking at him expectantly, but there was something far deeper, far more powerful. Something that made her look more beautiful than he had ever seen her.

She reached for his hands across the table, grasping them firmly.

'As long as you're happy 'kaa-san, it'll work out.'

He wasn't entirely sure he meant that when he said it though. Of course, he was no oracle or fortune teller or anything of the sort; there was a problem with the accuracy of his proclamation especially seeing as it referred to a conclusion not yet reached.

Apart from that though, the bombshell still hadn't quite reached the floor yet.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes

I must say, I was surprised at the amount of people who read the first chapter. This is one of my favourites in terms of plot idea, but I guess that doesn't matter when it comes to other people's opinions, reactions and what not. Was it that indecisive? Because it was more hits than I normally get for a single chapter before I post a second one, especially given it's only been a month and a half. Sometimes the stats page makes no sense. Perhaps I should stop bothering with it.

The journal has two main functions. Firstly to partially show Kouichi's POV at certain stages about certain things, most of which currently seem obscure but will be of relevance later on in this fic. The second reason is the fact that it's a book he's talking to and not a person. Again, the implications of that will become clearer later on, but there are some subtle hints last chapter and this…and in canon.

Kouji pops up next chapter. More mother-son stuff in this one. Speaking of, I'd forgotten to put Tomoko as one of the main characters. I fixed it halfway through this chapter.

Enjoy, and please tell me what you think. Feedback, inspiration, critique…anything.

* * *

><p><span>Grey Mist<span>

When truth and lies are clouded beyond distinction, one finds the border between what is acceptable and not blurred beyond comprehension. A new stepfather seemed to be having that effect.

Kouichi K & Tomoko K

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

_You know, you're the first one I'm telling about this. Maybe because I know you won't react or feel anything on the issue, so I don't have to try and figure that out on top of everything else. I'm not even sure how I feel about it, and I've been trying to figure it out all evening. I know things are going to change; it's just been 'kaa-san and I for a few years now, ever since 'baa-chan passed away, and I barely remember the years when our family had been together. The years before the divorce. We, Kouji and I, were only four when our parents decided they had had enough, so it's perfectly logical. Still, I used to dream about my father sometimes. Sometimes I call him 'tou-san. Sometimes I can't bring myself to. He raised Kouji. All I remembered was the shadow of him turning his back. It's still awkward. We see so little of each other, our two families. We live too far away, and even when I visit it's normally up in Kouji's bedroom, or we're both sleeping over at one of the other's places. It's only been seven or eight now anyway, including the two birthdays that have cropped up since then, and the two anniversaries. We always met at Takuya's house then, since it's his little brother's birthday and all. It's also our…well, Kouji's, parents' anniversary but he pointed out they much preferred to enjoy it alone. To be honest, I'm glad. That's one less thing I'm going to have to figure out, but how is it going to be like once 'kaa-san gets married? It seems like anyone's game now. What am I suppose to think? I don't want to jump to any conclusions; I just met the man who will be my new step-father tonight. That word seems weird: step-father. Will 'kaa-san tell me to call him 'tou-san like Kouji does to his step-mother? I feel like I'm in two minds about that too. _

_And now I'm both completely off the topic and no further off than when I began, and I've written a block of text that takes up a whole page._

Figures. Even while writing…or spewing out, his thoughts into writing in a slightly messy scrawl (he did it so often that it was still perfectly legible), he went around in circles instead of asking a straight question and getting a straight answer. It seemed he was always doing that, though the most obvious times were when he found the words getting stuck in his throat and coming out in a stutter.

That made for socially awkward moments, whatever the reason, but finding thoughts being unable to take a coherent form even when pen touched paper could become rather frustrating…or confusing.

_I wish you could just absorb it all and feed it back to me in a way that makes a little more sense, with all the gaps where questions are filled in. But no, you're not going to answer my questions, fill in those gaps. You can't, except when I can answer myself. But I'm glad…most of the time. Sometimes I wish you could think for yourself, without the thoughts I imprint onto you and the blank pages that are left, waiting to be filled. Maybe then you could tell me the answers to my own questions._

_Now look at me. I'm talking to a book that's empty except for what I write. And if you were able to think for yourself, you'd probably be annoyed with all the repetition._

He reread that last sentence, then cracked a grin. The first sign of craziness was talking to oneself. He wondered if talking to (or addressing rather) a book counted. Not that it really mattered, he decided, flexing his fingers a few times to prevent them from growing stiff and then picking up his pencil again.

_It's one of those interesting yet completely stupid questions. If you define crazy as out of the ordinary, then not only is the whole world totally bonkers, but anyone could alter between one or the other depending on who was doing the classification. Something normal to me might be crazy to someone else, and I don't exactly need to fish for an example in the reverse scenario. _

_Still, I wish 'kaa-san had told me, and not like that…or maybe not. I don't know. Who knows what my reaction would have been if she told me sooner. What if I had, whether meaning to or not, discouraged her? What if-_

The pen slipped as he closed his eyes and stifled another yawn, before letting his eyes flow over the words he had scrawled.

Seeing a definite deterioration in his language as he lightly skimmed through the sentences, not paying attention to the words or their meanings (sometimes they came out without ever registering in his brain, almost unconsciously), he decided it was about time to abandon the note-book in favour of the blankets. A yawn attempted to escape at that point as if to validate that course of action, and he stifled it with the hand holding the pencil, just missing his eyes.

'Right,' he mumbled to himself, staring at the rubber on top that seemed to shine a little from the moonlight seeping in through his partially open curtains. It gave his room the effect of a black and white movie, and he rather liked falling asleep watching the patterns on his wall and ceiling as the wind blew around the branches of the Sakura tree outside his window. He tucked them carefully into the lower lining of his pillowcase so they didn't roll out and poke him in the eye as h tossed in his sleep, which had actually happened before.

'Right,' he mumbled to himself, staring at the rubber on top that seemed to shine a little from the moonlight seeping in through his partially open curtains. It gave his room the effect of a black and white movie, and he rather liked falling asleep watching the patterns on his wall and ceiling as the wind blew around the branches of the Sakura tree outside his window. 'Definitely time for bed.' He tucked the two objects carefully into the lower flap of his pillowcase so they didn't roll out and poke him in the eye as he tossed and turned in his sleep, which had actually happened before. Luckily the imprint had long since faded, as had the small stains on his pillowcase. The stain had been barely noticeable to begin with on the black material. It was more the smell of blood that had pestered him so.

Anyone who saw his room claimed it to be somewhat eerie, a cross between neutral and defined and downright morbid. Cream and black after all wasn't a common décor, especially when it was almost _only_ cream and black. White in place of the slight offset would have heightened the effect further, but not only had the room been originally painted that colour by its previous inhabitant (or some predecessor) but light shining off white walls had always unnerved him. It came off too bright. Having a duller reflective surface lessened the effect. The dimmer light-bulb did that too, when he used it. More often than not he just parted his curtains. Enough light came in from the moon, the stars, and the annoyingly placed street-lamp almost in front of the edge of the frame. Hence why he only fully parted his curtains when the sun was absent when he was doing his homework or reading something and needed the additional light source.

It was the furniture that was black. Not that the room was overflowing by any means…except for the boxes that acted as extra storage so he didn't have his things spewed all over the place. The floor was the same colour as the ceiling. Black. It was only the walls and the small carpet in the room that were cream (the curtains were black too), and with light reflecting off surfaces, the lighter colour looked far darker in contrast. That was where the morbidity came from. The neutrality came in more often when light was streaming into the room. There weren't too many other colours, and if they were, they were in an organised fashion. It enhanced the look of neutrality, a balance between light and dark.

That's how the room looked at the current moment; he'd parted the curtains so he had enough light to be able to write, and he'd left them like that. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep with the light shining on his face, and indeed that was what happened when he lay his head on his pillow.

He wasn't physically tired though. Just mentally spent. He didn't mind looking out to the moon shining above the fence and through the branches of the Sakura tree. There was a hidden power in that light. Not the sort that could bring him to rest, but the sort that shone like a guiding light, teasing away from his touch as he raised a hand as if to grasp it and ask for guidance-

There was a knock on the door, and he dropped his hand.

'Are you asleep Kouichi?'

It was his mother.

'No, I'm awake,' he replied, giving up shifting around on his futon and trying to get into a position that would lull him to sleep. Sometimes it felt like he would toss and turn all night, only to wake in the morning tangled up in his sheets and, all things considered, rather well rested.

His door opened, letting the light from the hallway flood in and change the contrast again, making his room look like the scene of a black and white movie, all complete with a spider's web in the corner.

Hmm, he hadn't noticed that before. He burrowed the back of his head into the pillow so he could see the upper corner better, searching for a little black body on the thin web. In a few seconds, he managed to spot the spider scurrying along its thread, and then it had vanished from view again. It had probably snuck into a crack between the edges. It wasn't a large spider by any account, and he'd seen one the size of his closed fist scurry into a gap in the roof.

Tomoko followed her son's line of sight, sighing a little as she spotted the web.

'You didn't bring another spider home in your bento box again did you?' she asked.

He had a couple of times; the first time he had been four and she had nearly had a heart attack when she found the Redback an inch away from his hand as he drew his family. It had been relatively soon after the divorce and within the week he had recovered from the illness that had suddenly seized him. That sickness had turned out to be both a blessing and a curse amongst all else, as it had shut off all memories of his brother, and most of his father and their previous home too, leaving only dark empty space in both his memories and his heart.

For her it had been a different matter. She couldn't just forget those five years of her life, and with the wounds so fresh she had been almost desperate to cling to the shreds that were left. Her heart had literally leapt to her chest (or so it had felt) when she had seen the little red and black spider inching towards the flesh as Kouichi had reached for a pink crayon to colour in their skin.

She had quickly squashed the spider under her slipper, consequently causing her son to jump and almost crush his precious crayon. Then she had spent the next few minutes trying to calm down her hammering heart while simultaneously explaining that spiders with red backs were dangerous. Luckily, they were the only poisonous sort in Japan.

Unfortunately, it had slipped her mind to explain that spiders did not make good pets. She was thankful he hadn't brought a tarantula home though. Small spiders were one thing; she wasn't exactly arachnophobic, but the larger sort were frightening to almost anybody.

She would have gotten him a safer pet, if it hadn't been for the "no pets in the apartment" rule…and the times they were forced to struggle to meet ends. The cost of living varied depending on the economic state of the country and the company she worked with, and as such tended to fluctuate a little. On rainy days they would have had nothing to feed a starving pet, and she decided it was better to not raise the issue at all.

She still put the spiders out in the garden though. Corners of bedrooms were no place for them.

Kouichi sat up and shook his head, swivelling around so he was sitting cross-legged on his futon with his pillow in arms reach if he hunched over. 'I just noticed it,' he confessed.

'I'll never understand your fascination with spiders,' she sighed again, taking a seat on his futon beside him and glad her back wasn't acting up. After scoring a raise and being able to afford the rest the Doctor ordered, it had been doing much better of late.

It wasn't exactly a tradition for mother and son to chat a little before bed, if only because they didn't do it nearly often enough. It was mostly due to the fact that Tomoko was often working nightshifts during the school week. One could say it was a "weekend" tradition, provided they deleted the outliers, namely the weekends that Tomoko had night-shifts, was out on a date (as aforementioned, that rarely happened) or Koichi wasn't home (an even rarer occurrence).

'Why is it I never see Maffin snuggled up in your bed?' she asked rhetorically.

Kouichi shrugged. 'Maffin is far closer to Akari-chan. They belong together. He won't come into my bed.'

He wasn't even sure he wanted the fluffy ginger cat curled up in the crook of his neck while he slept in any case.

They watched the spider scurry to and fro a little longer.

'It must be nice…' He forced another yawn back. 'To be able to make a support beneath your feet even when you're dangling in mid-air.'

'You say that every time we watch the birds in the park too,' Tomoko commented, watching the spider for a little while. 'I guess I better catch it.'

She made no move to get up though. The spider could well wait.

'What did you think?' Tomoko asked once the spider vanished again.

'Huh?' His eyes hunted uselessly for awhile. 'About what?'

'Akira.'

They were back there…again.

'Oh…I…well, I…um…' He blushed as he realised there was absolutely nothing to say.

His mother laughed, brushing away the hair that fell in front of his eyes. 'You just need to get to know him a little, and then you'll have plenty to say.' She sobered up easily enough. 'I met him at the Convention,' she said after a moment's pause. 'Somehow or other we started talking, and then…I don't know. It just clicked.'

'You fell in love?'

'Truth be told.' She dropped her hand and closed her eyes a little, letting the moon shine in her face. If someone stood in the shade of a window, they'd get the perfect black and white picture of her. 'I don't think I believe in love at first sight, but there was certainly something.'

She stopped for a moment, opening her eyes again.

'I hope this works out,' she murmured, her eyes shining a little. 'I really do. Sometimes I feel like an old woman still clinging to her youthful dreams of a fairytale ending.' She looked like she was going to say something else, but decided against it.

'You're not old,' Kouichi said automatically.

Tomoko laughed again. 'Oh, you're too sweet.'

And she kissed the top of his forehead before leaving him to sleep.

Who knew? Maybe his mother _would_ get her fairy-tale ending after all.

The down-side was that union would stamp out any possibility of his two families ever getting together. Not that it had ever been a possibility to begin with.

Maybe now though, finally, his mother would wear a smile on her face every day. Maybe the creases on her forehead would fade, making her face glow with youth and her eyes sparkle.

Maybe, the little baby was taking the last step. The last _baby_ step.

Maybe…


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes

I'm going to be switching between this story and All Things End With Home every Tuesday now that I've finished Turning Towards Light. That doesn't mean I'm updating them every second week, just that it'll be one or the other. And I'm not necessarily going to finish this fic at this stage, as the projected plan is…quite long and I don't want to lengthen the chapters, so I might stop and move onto another shorter fic once this one reaches a stable point. Of course, that also depends on the feedback I get. I may be immune to puppy eyes, but I still melt in the face of…well, other things.

Enjoy, and please tell me what you think. Feedback, inspiration, critique…anything. Particularly in need of a second opinion about Akira…or third opinion if you want to count my own…I think it's pretty obvious why. The summary if nothing else.

Oh yeah, on that note you might remember I initially spelt the name Akita. In the second chapter, I wrote Akira and it was Akira in my head, so I've no idea why I initially said Akita, but I've fixed it now.

* * *

><p><span>Grey Mist<span>

When truth and lies are clouded beyond distinction, one finds the border between what is acceptable and not blurred beyond comprehension. A new stepfather seemed to be having that effect.

Kouichi K& Tomoko K

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 3<span>

His mother was gone when he woke up to the sun dancing upon his eyes, sneaking through the folds of his curtains. The spider was gone from its corner, but the web was still there. Blue eyes hazily scanned the area, before its owner let out a giggle. Eventually, it fell into full-blown laughter. After all, there was no-one to hear him.

Even if he shouldn't have been laughing. Although neither of them believed the superstition about breaking spiders' webs.

Then he yawned lazily, nice and snug beneath the blanket as he took in the rest of his ceiling, before groaning and rolling out of the comfort. As much as he'd love to laze about in the blankets all day long, he had to go to school.

The morning rituals flew past from habit…except when it came to his breakfast. Not being home most of the time to see her son off to school, Tomoko couldn't employ particularly effective means of forcing some food down the other's throat. Kouichi himself somewhat varied in the voluntary plane; sometimes he would eat breakfast, and sometimes he would not. On the occasion he did decide to eat something, odds were it would be an apple from the basket or a couple of crackers from the cupboard instead of the little extra Tomoko made with their dinner: enough to last both of them until lunch. He'd normally wind up taking that to school, neatly arranged in his bento box, although he was perfectly capable of preparing something himself should the need arise. There was also the slightly rarer occasion where that bento box would still have some of the previous night's dinner in it when he arrived home, in which case he would hurriedly finish it before his mother caught him. She definitely wouldn't be happy to see that, but he sometimes got elsewhere occupied during his lunch break.

That day, it was the generic fish and rice, and he very quickly decided he wasn't hungry, instead neatly packing it into its separate compartments and placing the container into his bag with his books. Then he looked at the clock upon the dresser; he still had a few minutes before he had to leave. And Kouji should be up by then too; he could sleep in as his school was quite near.

As soon as the thought struck him, his eyes drifted to the phone. Suddenly, he wanted to call his brother.

_This isn't the time for that,_ he scolded himself, firmly turning away as he located his jacket and some loose change in case he needed to catch the bus home. He'd normally walk the distance, even if it was almost on the outskirts of their school's boundary, but sometimes the stormy weather strongly discouraged his usual routine. It was days like that where he had to skip his usual drop by the library as well.

The clock glared at him though. There was five extra minutes. _Five_. And worst case scenario, he could take the bus, which would save him at least another ten…although that depended on the traffic. Every sign was telling him to just pick up the phone. And no doubt he'd burst by the time afternoon came anyway…or their usual conversation would wind up rather stilted as the other tried to process the information and he just hung by awkwardly.

In the end, he lifted the receiver from the cradle and dialled the familiar answer. It rang three times before Kouji picked up.

'Moshi moshi, Minamoto residence.'

A smile crept over the other's face. Kouji didn't sound too happy at the morning phone call. He probably thought it was a telemarketer or someone for his father.

'Hey Kouji.' He didn't bother identifying himself; he had the first time and felt like an idiot when his brother had returned the greeting with a simple: 'I know.'

'Hey.' This time the younger twin sounded surprised. 'Something wrong?'

He should have known the other was going to worry. 'No, nothing,' he hurriedly explained. 'It's just that…well…' He fell over his words a little as he tried to decide the best way to tell his brother. 'Well…'

'Just spit it out Kouichi.' He knew his brother well enough to know that his brother wasn't annoyed at the tone, even if he was a little impatient.

He took a deep breath, before saying: ''kaa-san got engaged.'

There was an exasperated: 'you ring right before school to-what?' The last part was more the reaction he had been expecting.

''kaa-san got engaged,' Kouichi repeated. Somehow, it was easier to say it the second time.

''kaa-san got engaged,' Kouji parroted. 'Right.' Then there was a rather awkward pause. 'Umm…when?'

'Umm…' The other returned. Truthfully, it had never occurred to him to ask and he said as such.

'Well, when did you find out then?'

'Last night.' Now there was a question he could answer. 'We went out to dinner, and…well…'

''kaa-san dropped the bombshell.' There was another pause, and then: 'Do you like him?'

'I just met him.'

'You just met him,' the younger twin parroted. They were doing quite a bit of that. 'So you don't know anything about him.'

'Just that he works in architecture,' Kouichi confessed.

'So 'kaa-san could be-' Then Kouji cut himself off-or rather, some sort of background noise cut him off. A muffled conversation issued wherein Kouichi could not make out a single word, before there was a static bursts in his ear and Kouji was talking again. 'That was 'tou-san,' he said by way of explanation.

'Oh.' Truth be told, the elder twin hadn't even considered how their birth-father was going to react to the situation. Their relationship was still several levels of awkward at best and he quickly changed the subject. ''kaa-san said she doesn't want us to be mad at her.'

There was the sound of laughter on the other end. 'Us or you?' Kouji asked rhetorically. 'I only see you guys once in a blue moon.'

'About once every six months,' Kouichi amended, before wincing slightly. It had come out a little badly.

'Which is more the fault of you two than us,' the younger twin reprimanded. The way he said it suggested an unconscious distinction between the two halves of what should have been a united family. Instead, the sparse threads were floating even further away.

'Hmm…I guess so.' His eyes strayed back to the clock. He could afford a few more minutes, but the conversation was starting to make him uncomfortable. 'I need to leave now. I'll call you after school.'

'_I_ will,' Kouji corrected. '_Ja ne_. Have fun at school.'

'Yeah. Same to-'

His brother cut him off. 'Are you okay?'

'Sure I am.' His brow furrowed slightly and he automatically raised a hand to smooth it. 'Why?'

'You sound…' There was a noise of hesitation before Kouji completed his statement. 'You sound weird.'

A ghost of a smile slid onto his face, reminiscent of their discussion in the library. But he'd been blatantly lying then. He wasn't this time. 'I'm fine,' he tried to reassure.

'You said that in Ofanimon's library.' Apparently Kouji remembered that incident well to.

'Well, there's no mystery surrounding my existence this time.' It was a light jibe, albeit skimming across touchy subjects. They were doing that a lot; normally, small talk would pass at least a half-hour before one of them needed to get off. He supposed it was the effect of time pressing upon their backs, urging them towards school. But it wasn't really a thing to be joking about.

'_Ni-san_.' And apparently Kouji agreed.

'It's nothing,' Kouichi reiterated. 'Except I'm going to have to run to school if I don't leave now.'

'Right. I'll talk to you after school then.'

There was a click, and then the dial-tone as Kouji hung up without reiterating his goodbye. There wasn't much point after all. But was it Kouichi's imagination, or did Kouji sound somewhat hurt by his insistence?

In the end, he did wind up having to run the last few blocks, if only he had dawdled a little too long in his thoughts during the initial step.

* * *

><p>Many people assumed he enjoyed school; he did not. Not at all. He was good at art: drawing, painting…but he disliked the subject because of the restrictions it forced upon any student undertaking it. There was a rather large (albeit subtle to those eyes less trained to perceive art) difference between the sketches made because they were told to draw something and the sketches made when they did so of their own violation. Even the teacher was able to pick it up when he gave his students a free-lance, but it was the curriculum, he said somewhat ruefully. He regretted it as much as any student passionate about the art.<p>

English was another subject he could have liked, but they focused more on the nuances of grammar (which were less useful in retrospect) than literature, comprehension and writing. Oh, they also practiced conversation…but he never was good at _any_ sort of conversation. He always managed to say something wrong or wind up with awkward pauses somewhere, particularly if the earlier one with Kouji was any indication…and that was ignoring the drama in the Digital World. It was somewhat hard to believe that the entire fiasco with Duskmon could have been avoided if he had just marched up to Kouji the first time he'd seen him. Likely, the other wouldn't have bit his head off as he'd imagined…rather graphically to. But his weird nightmares no longer had a detrimental effect on him; his body would still awake in tremors, covered in sweat, but his mind would be almost remote. Detached even. It would be frightening, except he was normally so tired afterwards he'd simply sink back into an attempted sleep.

And math? He was okay at it, but not particularly good. Science was a little variable; it really depended on what area they were covering. Contextual was generally good, better when the topic was interesting , like space exploration. Mathematical? Those were even worse than his math marks, but there was mercifully little of that that contributed to their final sore, so he normally wound up with a B+ average. During the parent-teacher interviews, some of his teachers, particularly English and Japanese, claimed he wasn't working up to his full potential. Maybe it was because his mind usually wandered off in those classes and he wound up sketching little figures for a story idea or minute abstract images, or scrawling flows of random words on a scrap piece of paper that could later be strung into forms of prose or poetry. He never got scolded though; teachers didn't check to see _what_ their students were writing as the assessment results were normally enough indicative. But his mother just told him to do his best and not force himself, and somewhat guiltily he remained in his hybrid with fairly consistent marks. Tomoko claimed they were far better than her marks at the same age, and that was more than enough for her. He felt he could perhaps do better, but several things held him back. One was forcing himself upon a thing which didn't enthral his interest; how was he supposed to tell his mind not to wander off?

The other thing, and the main reason he didn't like school, was the student environment.

He wasn't the top scorer in the school, though he still sometimes managed to squeeze his way into the first column. He wasn't the star of the soccer team or anything; he did play on occasion, but then only goal keeper. He was somewhat reluctant to of late (except when Takuya and Tomoki persuaded him that once) if only because it wasn't an environment he particularly fit into.

That was the main problem. There were all people he simply didn't fit in with. He knew them well enough. They would even go so far as to call him their friend…but there were times when they clashed epically. He couldn't talk to them, not like he could talk to his mother or the friends he had made in the Digital World. But he couldn't even talk to _them_ the way he could talk to his journal. But it wasn't something one could just come out and say…and he was socially awkward at that. He'd left behind most of the people he'd gone to elementary school with, with barely a pang in his heart. It was simply a world he existed in without being an integral part thereof. It was just how he had felt as a part of Cherubimon's warriors; he should have recognised the feeling then, but he hadn't if only because he hadn't understood his own circumstances. Since then he had changed schools, but the same circumstances persisted. He simply wasn't close to them, nor was there anything driving him to be. Whether the barrier simply existed or was of his own making, he didn't know. They all knew each other – relatively – but none of them really understood.

He was content with that. Content, but not exactly happy. Hence why school was a thing that was tolerable, but not likeable. The library on the other hand, with its expanse of books and worlds, was a different story altogether. He had to remember not to stay for too long otherwise he wouldn't be home in time to start dinner when his mother had an afternoon shift.

He made it to his class just as a bell rang…luckily, slipping into his seat as the teacher gave him a suspicious look before turning to address the class. Within the next few minutes, his mind managed to wonder off again, eyes drifting out the window to stare at the fresh glass glistening with the early morning dew with the light of the sun reflecting off the little bubbles of moisture.

'Kimura-kun?'

Most people got caught out like that, but he kept half an hear on the teacher's words and possessed the uncanny ability to regurgitate them, even if he hadn't been paying proper attention. In fact, he could replicate the words, and understand the lesson at times, better when he wasn't fully paying attention than when he was squelching his mind-wanderings and being entirely focused.

But that hadn't been a lesson. It was a new addition to the usual homeroom announcements. A new student to be exact, and he was being called because his desk happened to be the only one with a partner desk empty.

'I trust you'll show Hasegaya-kun around.'

Kouichi nodded, giving the other a quick look before smiling politely. It was unusually late in the semester to receive a new pupil, but that wasn't of particular consequence as the dark haired boy sat down. His eyes were brown; there was nothing that made him stand out from the throng, except he carried the nervous air of any new student (except those like Kouji who were used to transferring).

Hasegaya Hatsuka, much to his desk-partner's surprised, determinately avoided his gaze…and declined the offer to show him around at lunch, seeing as classes had started and they wouldn't get a free moment till then.

'I can manage,' he all but muttered before quickly snapping back to the teacher.

The blue eyed boy did the same, but the woman was still scrawling the preliminary processes of algebra on the board. He turned back, but the other gave off the air of not wanting to be interrupted, bent over his exercise book and carefully replicating the words and numbers.

He left him, uncapping his pen and copying the notes from the blackboard, the numbers joining everything else in his head that didn't quite make sense.

Why had Kouji said he sounded weird? Why had he been asking as he had been expecting a reaction he didn't see? Was he supposed to be feeling a certain something? Act in a certain way?

But his mother had seemed unquestionably relieved with his reaction…well, if you could call it a reaction. The only difference he could see was their home and little two-person family having an extra person in it.

And Ishikawa-san seemed like a nice man. His mother liked him, and she wasn't exactly a bad judge of character. If she thought the family could work, then why should he, who didn't have the prior knowledge or the overview, double-guess such an attempt without even trying? No doubt it would be awkward initially, but no doubt it would fall into place eventually…just as it had with his father and Satomi and Kouji.

Kouji had been right. He could theoretically visit more than he did. It just felt like an intrusion. It was almost ironic that he was partially responsible for the final sealing of that family sect.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes

Sorry this chapter's so short. It was necessary because the new chapter occurs on a new day.

Enjoy, and tell me what you think.

* * *

><p><span>Grey Mist<span>

When truth and lies are clouded beyond distinction, one finds the border between what is acceptable and not blurred beyond comprehension. A new stepfather seemed to be having that effect.

Kouichi K& Tomoko K

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4<span>

'Hey.'

Kouichi, who had been heading straight home that day as he always did when it was Kouji's turn to ring, stopped in his tracks and half turned as a classmate ran up to him with a soccer ball tucked under one arm.

'Want to play soccer with us?'

The elder twin smiled politely, and a tad wistfully. It was nice weather; he could have hung out a little, played soccer with them, just sat at the park and enjoyed the sunshine…but he had pretty much agreed to Kouji's phone call and the other had a habit of being rather prompt. Well, he hadn't exactly agreed, but the point was he hadn't disagreed and thus the confirmation was taken by means of agreement.

'I can't,' he replied. 'I need to go home.'

'It'll only be half an hour or so,' another commented, a small frown of disapproval playing on his lips.

'I'm expecting a phone-call,' Kouichi explained.

The pair looked at each other, and then the ball passed hands as the second speaker shrugged. 'See you around then.'

Kouichi waved his goodbye before continuing on home. At the intersection he turned back to the yard; two mock-teams had begun their scrimmage match. Already he could see several white shirts spotted in mud.

Then the light turned green and he continued his way home…and Kouji's phone call which still somehow managed to beat him.

'I've got it,' he said to the empty house, snatching up the receiver. 'Moshi moshi,' he panted. 'Kimura residence.'

'Hey.' Yep, it was Kouji. 'Did you just get home?'

'Ah…yeah.' He looked at the clock whose hands shone as if berating him. 'I guess there was a little extra traffic today.' He couldn't think of any other reason why it took an additional ten minutes to walk the distance; the conversation hadn't even taken "one". And he _had_ gotten stuck on a few red lights.

'Yeah, okay.' For some reason, Kouji's tone sounded doubtful. The effect was heightened when the silence stretched between them. 'So…'

'Umm…' Scrambling for a conversation, Kouichi burst out: 'We got a new student today.'

'What?' Kouji sounded a little bewildered before the statement struck. 'Oh, a new student.' Another pause, and then: 'So after an entire year and a month, the desk besides yours finally gets an occupant.'

'Pretty much, but…' The elder twin's voice trailed off. The new student unnerved him for some reason. He flat out refused to be shown around, vanished for lunch and then vanished again after school. And he barely strung words together when addressed. He also seemed a little overly worried about getting caught talking during class, but he supposed any new student off-footed by entering a new school after the scholastic year had already started would feel that way. 'He doesn't talk much.'

'Neither do you,' the younger twin responded. 'That'll make an interesting pair. He might have done better beside Takuya.'

'Takuya doesn't go to my school.'

A sigh. 'I didn't mean it literally Kouichi.'

A pause punctured the statement. 'Right,' Kouichi responded after a while as the door opened. 'Oh, 'kaa-san's home.'

Then he blinked at the questions he received, falling over one another.

'I'll give the phone to her,' he decided finally, failing to decipher any of it. He handed it to her after receiving a quick kiss on his cheek and headed off to finish his "breakfast" when Tomoko hailed him, right ear listening attentively. Without a word, she waved at him to return.

Understandably too, as that way she wouldn't have to repeat everything twice.

* * *

><p>'So, your mother's getting remarried?' Takuya asked, sitting up from his position on the grass. 'That's so cool.'<p>

Izumi on the other hand looked a little more sympathetic. 'What do you think about it?'

Kouji shrugged. ''tou-san's been married to Satomi for years now, so 'kaa-san remarrying isn't that big of a deal. I won't see them that often anyway.' It was hard for his four friends to discern his underlining tone. But his words spoke the truth; Kousei and Satomi's marriage had been the major marriage. Tomoko remarrying wouldn't affect him nearly as much as it would his brother. Not only would he not be living with the new man, but he'd already gone through the process once. Everything was easier a second time after all.

'I wonder how Kouichi's going to cope,' the blonde murmured, shifting on the grass slightly as she gazed up into the branches of the Sakura tree with its thin veil of leaves. It was late summer after all; the Sakura species blossomed to its fuel might in Autumn. 'It's going to be awkward for him at the very least; he and your father don't get along still, do they?' Like the other, the question was aimed at the younger twin, even if it was spoken to the air in general, gently caressing her face.

Kouji, who was leaning against the trunk of the said tree, shook his head. The long black strands, somewhat loosened by the usually tight ponytail, whipped at his face in a gentle manner as he closed his eyes. 'Not particularly I guess,' he muttered. 'But then again, whenever Kouichi comes over, he's with me. It's not like they're ever in the same room together.'

'That's true,' the pseudo-Italian realised, before giving up the topic. 'Maybe we're making mountains out of molehills here.'

'You mean _you_ are,' Junpei corrected. 'Anyway, when's the wedding? Summer break?'

'Before that,' the younger twin replied, and if Takuya had been standing up, he would have fallen. His face spoke volumes on that notion.

'What?' he exclaimed. 'But-in the middle of the term?' Then he whistled. 'Geeze, they must really not want to wait.'

'It's something to do with the lease for the apartment,' Kouji explained, giving the brunette a look anyone else could easily interpret as being sour. 'They'd have to pay for six months when they'd only stay there for one, tops.'

'Hold on,' Tomoki piped up for the first time, rolling over so his head was on his elbows and his stomach was comfortably squished against the grazed surface. 'Does that mean Kouichi's moving?'

Kouji blinked at the question, then nodded while giving himself a mental whack. How hadn't he thought of that? 'I guess he is,' he replied. 'Kuso. I should have asked _where_.' Then he really did hit himself. 'I'll just ask him tomorrow.'

They all laughed at that. Sometimes it seemed like that, no matter the fact that the twins talked to each other at least once a day, there was always the necessity for more talk. On their end anyway; none of them could really speak for Kouichi.

* * *

><p>His father was home by the time he got home from the little get-together with his friends, which was somewhat unusual but becoming more common as of late.<p>

'How was your day?' Kousei asked, sipping-

'That's not coffee, is it?' Kouji returned, staring suspiciously at the cup.

'Tea,' the other validated, before giving him a reprimanded stare.

'Day was fine.'

The older man raised an eyebrow over his cup. 'Are you sure? I heard you on the phone with your brother this morning.'

He would have, having to get up early for work after all.

'Ahh…' Despite what he'd told his friends, the new marriage was going to invite some changes, and some accompanying situations bordering on awkwardness. 'Ni-san called me.'

Kousei waited expectantly, lips lightly kissing the rim of his mug.

''kaa-san's getting remarried,' Kouji admitted eventually.

'Mmm-hmm,' the other acknowledged, taking another sip. The younger twin waited for the other shoe to drop – perhaps for the tea to go spraying – but it never did. 'To who?'

'An architect.' That hurdle out of the way, the ex-warrior of light threw himself onto an empty chair.

'Oh?' The other eyebrow went up, and then a half grin. 'I hope you reacted better than when I said the same thing.'

Not many things made Minamoto Kouji blush, but his father's words accomplished that effect.

'Of course I did.' Kouji's words at least were steady.

'You asked a million questions?' Now, the father's time sounded rather amused. 'Really, when Satomi and I were marrying, you spend most of your time being angry at me or asking a whole bunch of questions.'

'Yeah…I guess I did.' He scratched his head.

'Well…'

'Well what?' Then Kouji blinked. 'Why are you..?'

Kousei shrugged, something hidden in his eyes. 'I can hardly begrudge Tomoko for…remarrying when I've done the same.' The hesitation spoke more volumes than his words; it was obvious he had been about to say something different, but reconsidered. 'So…when's the wedding?'

'In a few weeks,' Kouji answered automatically. He wasn't sure what reaction he had been expecting from his father, but that wasn't it. Still, he had to tell his father at some point after all…particularly the arrangements. 'Something to do with the apartment lease, so they don't want to wait till the Summer break.'

Kousei nodded in a gesture to continue.

''kaa-san said they haven't planned much at this stage, but she doesn't like leaving engagements hanging.'

'She did the same thing with me.' The brown eyes turned somewhat nostalgic. 'If you're engaged and people know about it, you might as well be married.'

'But…you can break off an engagement…'

Kousei's eyes settled to the top of his son's bandana. 'Sometimes,' he explained softly. 'Breaking off an engagement is worse than a divorce, even in societies like this were divorces are somewhat considered a taboo.'

'But…' That made little sense to many of the current generation. After all, societal holds were beginning to loosen.

Now, Kousei's voice sounded somewhat amused. 'Have you being paying attention to history?'

'Yeah,' Kouji responded automatically, before it clicked. 'But…'

A chuckle escaped. 'I haven't heard you say so many "buts" since you were four,' he commented. 'But as much as history likes to be fabricated, there are grains of fact engraved.' He took a breath. 'Now…anything else I need to know right now?'

Kouji began to shake his head before he remembered, letting it sink onto the tabletop instead. 'Ni-san's staying with us this weekend.'

'Ah…this is short notice.' Somehow, the words had caught him off guard, particularly since he hadn't been asked whether it was possible. Which it was, and Kouji had probably known that. But at times like that it appeared he gave his son a little too much leeway.

'Well…' Kouji shrugged. 'Kouichi didn't mention it, so it must have been.'

He didn't seem particularly bothered.

'No major assignments?'

A shake of the head.

'You're not hiding something?'

Another shake of head. 'Teachers are disorganised. They gave everything last week.'

Kousei chuckled at that, draining his cup.


End file.
